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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25076581">No More</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorSS19/pseuds/Professor%20SS19'>Professor SS19 (ProfessorSS19)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Conflicted Albus Dumbledore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Good Severus Snape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:20:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,498</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25076581</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfessorSS19/pseuds/Professor%20SS19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at the end of Order of the Phoenix.  Albus Dumbledore is reeling from the loss of another Gryffindor child and the idea that he could have been bested.  Severus seeks to provide some form of comfort; but his wisdom may force Albus' hand in the final gamble, the final shuffle of the cards, as Albus Dumbledore vows no more.  Angsty hurt comfort.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>No More</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <span>No More</span>
  </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A one shot for tonight. ~ SS19</em>
</p><hr/>
<p>He lingered in the doorway to the cold and dimmed office, on the threshold between entreating and retreating. His hands trembled, so he held them behind his back. "Headmaster?" All was silent, even the many portraits, and as such his voice though softly and gently spoken sounded a harsh and sudden contrast, which was sharp enough to almost force him into said retreat. But he held his ground and when no immediate response forced his hand, he took one step forward into the room that could be considered a home to him, under usual circumstances.</p>
<p>Of course, these were not usual circumstances. Perhaps that why he felt more emboldened to not act in his usual way; nothing was usual; nothing would be usual again. "I do not wish to disturb but – "</p>
<p>"You are." There was a completion of the sentence now, but the single clause did not seem to hold venom, though it also held no warmth nor humour nor affection. It seemed entirely devoid of emotion, composed to the point of emptiness, and had he not recognised it and the pain and hopelessness it was disguising he would have left, as usual.</p>
<p>But this was not usual.</p>
<p>"I think you need someone." He said, finally, and there was no argument, nor acceptance, nor animosity. There was just nothing. So, he walked further into the room, so he could see the chair by the window, so he could see the shadows cast by the moonlight, so he could see the aged figure in that chair's wooden confines and highlighted by that moonlight. The Headmaster looked so much older, tonight. It was not the fault of the moonlight, tonight. There was an archway that divided this section of the office from the others and he could lean against the cold stone, hoping this would be a more casual pose, not that he truly understood the definition of casual.</p>
<p>There they sat and stood, for moments that stretched and dawdled and meandered.</p>
<p>Then.</p>
<p>A whisper; a murmur. In the dark. "No more, Severus."</p>
<p>Severus tugged a thread on his black sleeve, "Headmaster?"</p>
<p>"No more death. No more loss."</p>
<p>He felt the need to comfort, as if the roles were reversed comfort would be free flowing and forthcoming but he was not sure how to do so. "What do you mean?" He knew, of course, but to stall for time could help him, and he wanted to listen.</p>
<p>"Voldemort will not take any more of my children from me."</p>
<p>He steeled himself not to flinch at the use of the name. "It is not your fault. You could not have stopped it." He had heard from wandering tongues and had seen in the faces of those he had met tonight – before he had come here – and he was surprised at himself when he had not felt a thrill of glee nor victory nor triumph. Was he too so empty that the death of his own childhood nemesis was not something for him to celebrate? Was yet another death just that – just another death.</p>
<p>"I should have killed him tonight."</p>
<p>It was not that he had never heard Albus use the word 'kill' or any of its associated forms before; but he had never heard it connected with Albus himself. It was not something he associated with the Headmaster; death and killing and murder belonged in the Dark, no matter how well Severus knew that was a childish and simplistic point of view. "What happened?"</p>
<p>"We duelled. He nearly won; though he thinks he nearly lost. Will that make him more dangerous, Severus?"</p>
<p>There was a lot of information there. "I – cannot say, Headmaster, until I see him. Why did he nearly win?" Albus Dumbledore could not lose; the wizard was brilliant, a genius, a prodigy, empowered by the Light, unafraid of the Dark – Severus had risked everything to gamble on the Light, and it had been Albus and his invincibility that convinced him, time and time and time again, that he had chosen well – there was no possible conceivable outcome that meant that Albus would lose.</p>
<p>And if that too was childish, this time childish sentiment, then he would accept it.</p>
<p>"He is strong. Stronger than I imagined. If he had not wavered, and focused upon Harry, he would have bested me. I would not have managed much longer. I am old, Severus. Old, and losing people I love more frequently than I wish to count."</p>
<p>He moved to stand beside the chair, "We will win, Headmaster. The Light will overcome. Have faith."</p>
<p>Finally, Albus Dumbledore regarded him, and Severus did not know how to react proactively to the expression on that evermore wizened face, for instead he simply felt a stab and twist of fear's knife into his ribcage. "How many more, Severus?" Those blue eyes that guided him were filled with sparkling liquid, and it was not the moonlight that accentuated them, and he moved to rest one hand on Albus' shoulder, "Stop, Albus, stop."</p>
<p>"How many more must die in my name?"</p>
<p>He knelt by the chair, his hand not leaving the arm under its many layers of robes, "Please stop."</p>
<p>"It could be you, next, Severus. Any day; any Summons; he could kill you on a whim, for fun." One finger touched Severus' cheek, and he fought back the frown, and the burning at the back of his own eyes, and the swallow, "He will not. He needs me."</p>
<p>"I need you more. Does that put me at a disadvantage?" The finger did not retract from its gentle presence against his skin, "Look at you, here, now, trying to reassure me. Where would I be without you, Severus? Yet I send you to hang on his arm; I send all my children out to fight in my name, and yet when I came face to face with the enemy, I could not best him." The finger dropped, "When that is out for people to know, why will they still believe?"</p>
<p>"I believe." He moved his hand to Albus', "I believe in you."</p>
<p>A maddeningly saddening smile, a paradox of its own, "You are a fool to do so."</p>
<p>"A fool then I shall be."</p>
<p>"That loyalty will be your death, Severus."</p>
<p>"Rather a loyal fool than a cowardly genius, Headmaster."</p>
<p>Albus shook his head, "Sentiment, my boy?" The lying smile faded but what it left behind was no more reassuring, for that still devastation followed in its wake, "How many more? How many more before I can stop it?"</p>
<p>"We are at war. You cannot predict who will live and who will die. Just do not give up; we need you not to give up. We will follow you as long as you lead us."</p>
<p>"No more." Albus whispered again. "Not on my watch. He will take no more from me on my watch." He moved his hand to grasp Severus' tight, too tight, to the point of almost discomfort for the younger wizard not that he dared not even tried to take his hand away. "You cannot make that promise, Albus – that is not fair on yourself."</p>
<p>"Perhaps that is a message you should deliver to your false master; I would surrender, now, if it meant no more."</p>
<p>Severus was already shaking his head vehemently in the middle of the sentence, let alone the end, "We would be lost if you surrendered. I will deliver no such message. Find another way, Albus. You always tell me there is always another way."</p>
<p>Albus watched him for a very long and very fraught moment. Severus did not look away; he sensed that his oldest friend was looking for something, in him. He winced when pain lanced across his left arm, "I have to go."</p>
<p>"Then be safe, dear one."</p>
<p>"Always." Severus stood, waiting for Albus to release his hand, "Sleep, Headmaster. Tomorrow it will be brighter."</p>
<p>"Of course."</p>
<p>He was almost to the door when…</p>
<p>"Severus. How far would you go, for no more? If there was another way?"</p>
<p>Severus turned to face him, "You know my answer to that."</p>
<p>"I need to hear it again."</p>
<p>There was such desperation in that simple sentence. The words hung between them; the meaning as tangible as all that occupied the small room.</p>
<p>Severus swallowed around the lump that rose in his throat, but he would never change his mind. His choice made, always.</p>
<p>"Anything, Headmaster."</p>
<p>With that, he was gone so he was not late. Albus returned his gaze to the window, to the sky, to the forest, to the mountains, to the world. Severus' soft promise was a scar on his very soul, constantly bleeding, never to heal as he exploited it and picked the scab again and again – and perhaps this time it would bleed so much it would take him with it – he would need to bear that pain.</p>
<p>Not on his watch.</p>
<p>No more.</p>
<p>
  <em>Anything, Headmaster.</em>
</p>
<p>No more.</p>
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